


Bear

by Silverstreams



Series: Hospice [2]
Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Pregnancy Scares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverstreams/pseuds/Silverstreams
Summary: "There's a bear inside your stomach, a cub's been kicking from within."Cave and Caroline go through a pregnancy scare.





	Bear

**Author's Note:**

> "There's a bear inside your stomach, a cub's been kicking from within.  
> He's loud, though without vocal cords, we'll put an end to him.  
> We'll make all the right appointments, no one ever has to know"
> 
> -"Bear" by The Antlers

"I need to talk to you," said Caroline. She grabbed at the sleeve of Cave's jacket, glancing back into the office. "Alone." 

"Caroline, how many times do I need to tell you that we're trying to promote transparency here? Talking about things in front of the lab boys, and all that." 

"Sir, really. It's," she paused. "Personal." 

"Oh. Well then sure," said Cave. The folder he'd been looking flopped onto the conference table. He moved into the office and Caroline followed him, locking the door behind them. 

He moved over to his luxurious office chair--made from real leather, of course--he would never accept any of that faux leather nonsense with as much time he spent in here--and sat down, leaning back. "So what's all this about?" said Cave.

"I'm late." 

"Looks like you're pretty on-time to me, kid," said Cave. "I don't think you've been late a day in your life." 

"No, I mean. I'm late." She hesitated, not sure if he was getting her meaning. 

Ever since she had started to sleep with her boss, she had been obsessed with being careful. Condoms, the pill, experimental Aperture-brand birth control, the whole nine yards. That had been years ago. Decades, even. With all of the experimental toxins and gamma rays and radiation that she'd been exposed to, she figured that she would probably end up infertile anyway. It was a common struggle among some Aperture employees, she knew, at least for those attempting to settle down and start families. But lately--lately they had gotten more careless. She never expected--no, she never dreamed--that anything like this would end up happening to her. 

"Oh," Cave Johnson said simply. It took him a minute to gather his thoughts. "Have you--do you know for sure?"

"Yes," Caroline said simply. She handed him pregnancy test, marked with a clear plus sign. 

"We can--if you want--we have doctors--" He twirled the test uselessly in his hands. 

She touched her stomach reflexively, knowing that at the most, she was what, four weeks along? Nothing recognizable besides a clump of sophisticated, multiplying cells. She took a steadying breath. "Wait. I want to talk about this," said Caroline.

"Y-you do?" Cave said, stuttering over his own words. He ran a hand behind the back of his neck. "I figured--well, I figured that it'd be a done deal. What is there to talk about?" 

Caroline took a deep breath. "Do you think--maybe--we could make this work?"

Cave was silent for a long moment. "I dunno, Caroline," he said. "Me? A father?"

"You'd be great at it," said Caroline. 

"I'm not sure that we're cut out for it. We're just too old." 

"We're not old at all," she said. People, though it was a bit more rare, did have kids in middle age. 

"But you? A mother? Seriously?" said Cave. "I've seen the way that you look at kids. You've never really been that type." 

"Maybe I can learn," she said, suddenly feeling defensive. This was always something that she had been conscious about--her lack of, well, desire to settle down and have kids, to continue on the chain of life. She'd been criticized about her dedication to a working life so many times--by family, by friends, even by people she'd just met when they found out that she was never married, had never had kids. Especially as the years ticked on.  Caroline gave a heavy sigh. "I could--maybe I could stay home." 

"And what, go crazy after a week?"

"What about you?" said Caroline.

"What about me?" said Cave. "I have a company to run. I can't be home every night at five. This is a 24-hour commitment, and you and I both know that." 

"What about Aperture?"

Right. Aperture. 

"I can't keep you out of this place. And it's too dangerous of a place to raise a child." 

Caroline gave a grim nod. She didn't have time to become a mother. Not with all the work that needed to be done. 

"I need you here, Caroline. This place doesn't run the same without you," he said. 

"So I guess that's it, then," said Caroline. She folded her arms across her chest. 

Cave suddenly realized that perhaps he had said the wrong thing. Something about Caroline's demeanor had shifted, and if he didn't know better, he would have said she looked disappointed.  "Caroline--"

She sat down at the chair opposite his desk. "Pour me a glass," she said, firm. 

Cave moved over to his liquor cabinet--always handy in a crisis--and pulled out a tumbler and Caroline's favorite type of wine. He poured slowly. "You really shouldn't--"

"Oh, what do I care?" said Caroline. She reached across the desk for her glass, taking a swig of it. 

Cave sat there for a moment, bottle of wine in his hand, before returning it to the cabinet. 

"I guess now we have to talk about doctors--" 

"I don't want to talk about that," said Caroline. She took another drink of the wine, hoping that maybe this would let her forget her troubles.  "I'll take care of it. Don't you worry." 

* * *

Caroline sat beside Cave Johnson's hospital bed, idly flipping through a magazine. Cave gave a heavy sigh. 

"You know, I miss him sometimes," he said. 

"Who?" said Caroline, looking up. She really needed some reading glasses these days--her eyesight wasn't what it used to be. She'd have to stop one of the doctors one day when they had a moment between visits to Cave. 

"Cave Jr." 

Caroline went silent. 

"I know, it's dumb--I shouldn't have named him--it," he said. "We don't even know if it was a boy. But I just can't stop thinking about him. How he would have been twenty five this year. He would have been old enough to take over the company from me." 

"Cave--" 

He paused, leaning back in his bed and closing his eyes for a moment. "There comes a time when a man comes and looks at his legacy, and I can't help but feel like we--that I should have something to show for it. I've got Aperture, sure, but what about us? I have no family. I have no one to pass this place on to. No one to uphold my legacy when I'm gone." 

Caroline reached over and squeezed his hand gently. "You have me," she said gently. "And that's all that matters." 

  
  



End file.
